


Break the Ice

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, But not how you think, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hypothermia, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Pack Dynamics, Threesome - M/M/M, Warm, especially groaners, puns are awesome, references to twilight, use of puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, hell no. You are not Bella Swanning me."</p><p>Derek stared at Stiles blankly, as if he wasn't sure if he should snarl or roll his eyes.</p><p>"<i>Twilight</i>?  They're on a mountain or something and she's cold but she can't snuggle with Edward because he's cold as ice or some shit and the we-werewolf is a furnace so he has to warm her up.  I'm not a t-teenaged girl with a penchant for sparkles!" Stiles declared, whirling a finger in the air although his point was somewhat undermined by his full-body shiver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for stop_drop_howl over on LiveJournal. Had to get this out quickly to make the deadline so it's unbeta'd. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"Oh, hell no. You are not Bella Swanning me."

Derek stared at Stiles blankly, as if he wasn't sure if he should snarl or roll his eyes.

" _Twilight_? They're on a mountain or something and she's cold but she can't snuggle with Edward because he's cold as ice or some shit and the we-werewolf is a furnace so he has to warm her up. I'm not a t-teenaged girl with a penchant for sparkles!" Stiles declared, whirling a finger in the air although his point was somewhat undermined by his full-body shiver.

"O....kay," Derek said slowly.

"I'm just saying," Stiles mumbled and pulled his jacket tighter around his midsection.

The Alphas were hiding somewhere in the woods. Apparently they were even more uncivilized than Derek in his burned out house. As a result the Pack was trying to track them and were taking shifts patrolling. Somehow Stiles got himself roped into joining in.

Fast forward to now and here he was huddled in a tent with Derek, trying not to freeze his appendages off.

It wasn't working.

“I thought you guys could feel a s-shift in the weather in your bones or sense the c-clouds or s-s-some shit," Stiles mumbled, trying not to let his teeth chatter. The snow started falling lightly while they were tracking up the mountain but by the time they reached the top it was falling quickly, the temperature had plunged and there was already at least a foot in some areas. 

Stiles was not impressed.

“We’re not barometers, Stiles," Derek said evenly but without turning to look at him Stiles could tell Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed. 

There was rustling beside him and Stiles looked over in the warm electric lantern light to see Derek pulling a giant sleeping bag out of a duffel bag. It looked like two someone zipped together to make a big bed at one time. He spread it out between them, not looking at Stiles. He tried to straighten it out as much as possible before sighing and turning to Stiles.

“Get in."

Stiles considered protesting for shits and giggles, but his fingers were numb in his mittens and his toes weren’t far behind. He gingerly shuffled around, trying to get his stiff body to move right. He tried to roll into the makeshift bed where Derek had pulled the corner back only to be stopped by the alpha.

“No shoes," Derek said as he reached down to pull off one of Stiles’ sneakers.

“The dude who lives underground has a beef about t-tracking dirt into bed? Really?" 

Derek raised an eyebrow as he reached for Stiles’ other foot. “Why couldn’t your mouth have been the first part of your body to freeze?"

“Ha ha," Stiles replied sarcastically but he was quiet once the sneakers were tossed to the side of the tent and he scrambled as best he could into the sleeping bag. Derek helped bundle him up as much as he could, tucking bits here and there until Stiles felt like a goddamn burrito.

“Thanks, m-man," Stiles said quietly. Derek just hummed back absently. They sat in silence far longer than Stiles would ever give himself credit for, listening to the soft brush of the fir tree branches against the sides of the tent where Derek tried to keep away from as much snow as possible. The wind was blowing a bit, Stiles could tell, but he knew that if anything came their way or tried to creep up on them that Derek would hear.

Stiles also knew that the odds of the pack finding the Alpha pack were slim to none since Derek wouldn’t have sent them out on their own and he certainly wouldn’t have let Stiles tag along, especially to spend the night in the woods with them. Stiles had been making some grumblings about not being able to be involved in all things wolf pack since he couldn’t, you know, shift and grow fangs and whatnot so he suspected this was a way for Derek to help Stiles feel a little more included.

Not that it was working out any, since he was stuck in a tent with Derek, trying not to let his bits freeze off.

“You’re still shaking," Derek said, jarring Stiles out of his thoughts.

“I think they’re starting to go away, though," Stiles said through teeth that barely chattered. He was getting tired, trying to fight off the persistent shudders that ran through his midsection. He let his eyes drift close a couple times before he jolted awake from what felt like fire on his face.

“W-what are you doing?" 

Derek was leaning over Stiles, running his hand over Stiles’ face and listening closely to the way he was breathing.

“You’re too cold, Stiles," Derek replied grimly. “You’re at risk for hypothermia."

Derek reached down to quickly unlace and yank off his boots, tossing them in the same direction as Stiles’ sneakers. His leather jacket and t-shirt (of course he wasn’t wearing three layers and a wind-resistant jacket like Stiles) followed but, to Stiles’ foggy-brained disappointment, his jeans stayed on.

Derek carefully unwrapped burrito!Stiles and rolled him onto his side, facing Derek, and he slid into the sleeping bag.

“Jesus, Stiles, how much are you wearing?" Derek muttered as he tried to get his arms around Stiles.

“S’for warmth," Stiles slurred back. He felt leaden and he couldn’t feel his toes, couldn’t tell if he was moving them to try to get them warm again. He barely noticed Derek tugging his clothes off until he had to drag Stiles up to pull his t-shirt off, exposing his chest. “Hey, no taking advantage of the frozen guy."

“Shut up, Stiles," Derek replied with no heat that Stiles would have gladly taken at that point.

Once he stripped Stiles down Derek laid them both back down, pulling Stiles against his chest and tucking his head down so even his face could get warm again. Derek tried not to jump at the icy feeling of Stiles’ cheek against his collarbone and ran his hands up and down Stiles’ back under the sleeping bag.

In the distance a wolf howled, curious, maybe a little worried. Derek bit back a curse and kept trying to pull Stiles closer, even pulling his freezing feet between his calves one at a time to try to get them working again. It was a testament to how bad Stiles was feeling because he wasn’t talking at all, but he was slowly working his fingers around Derek’s midsection, as if trying to crawl into his body.

A few minutes later the door to the tent unzipped and Isaac poked his head in. He’d obviously run all the way and shifted on the fly because his canines were still disappearing and his hair was shaggier than usual.

“What’s wrong?" Isaac asked, trying to get the tent door open more so he could get in.

Stiles raised his head from Derek’s shoulder, looked around, as if surprised. “What’s going on?"

“Nothing, Isaac was just leaving. Everything is _fine_ ," Derek told his beta.

“But-"

“Isaac," Derek said sharply.

Isaac slinked back. “I just wanted to help." The tent was zipped back up and Derek could hear quick footfalls away from the makeshift campsite.

“What’s that about?" Stiles asked. 

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?"

“Question with a question," Stiles pointed out, laughing a bit to himself, still sounding a bit off. “You are so goddamn hot."

Derek snorted and didn’t even flinch when Stiles jabbed him in the side. Didn’t stop him from just about disappearing from sight and rubbing his chest against Derek’s under the sleeping bag, though. Derek let him without a word because he could still feel Stiles’ body shuddering as it fought to raise his core temperature.

It wasn’t until Stiles’ hands started moving more nimbly over Derek’s skin, clearly warmed up again, that he tried to put a little space between them. Stiles tensed up and tried to tug him back, glancing up with sleepy eyes.

“I’ll be Bella Swan, that’s okay. Just don’t go," Stiles mumbled, clearly on the verge of dozing off.

Derek sighed but pulled Stiles close again. “Fine. But I’m still not some goddamn sparkly vampire."

Derek waited until Stiles’ breathing evened out and he was asleep before he tucked his own head down and rested it on top of Stiles’ buzzed one and let himself drift off.

********************************

Stiles was fucking _roasting_. 

He woke up slowly, feeling like he was being baked in an oven. He felt squished and hot but he was so goddamn comfortable. 

As he became more aware he remembered he was in the tent and the reason why he was so hot was because Derek was still pressed against his front like a goddamn leech.

But his back was hot, too--what?

Stiles could feel another body cushioning him from behind, this one definitely _not_ wearing any kind of clothing. The tent smelled thickly of the smell Stiles could identify as none other than _wolves_ , or, rather, his wolves. The pack.It was such a comforting smell that when Stiles finally shuffled around a bit and turned his head to see Isaac behind him, nuzzling and pressing kisses to Derek’s outstretched hand it didn’t phase him at all.

Stiles turned to face Derek and started to close his eyes but Isaac shifted behind him and pressed a kiss to the back of Stiles’ neck. He let his lips linger there, pressing soft kisses around Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles was sure the frostbite had gotten to his brain. He opened his eyes wide to look up at Derek, to see if he was even awake, and he stifled a gasp as he caught the look in Derek’s eyes as he watched his beta mouth at Stiles’ neck. Derek’s eyes were watching him carefully, waiting for the slightest hint that Stiles didn’t want this.

Stiles realized that while one of Derek’s arms was stretched out over top of his head the other one was under the sleeping bag, clutching at Stiles’ hip with the thumb rubbing slowly over his skin.

As soon as Derek could see that Stiles realized what was going on he opened his mouth, probably to say this was wrong or to gruffly push Stiles away or _something_ stupid so Stiles surged up and covered Derek’s mouth with his own, effectively trapping any potential mood killers he might have in him.

Derek stilled but Stiles persisted and lifted a hand to cup Derek’s jaw, trying to coax him into responding. Behind him Isaac was starting to trail his tongue down Stiles’ back, kissing and sucking at each vertebrae.

Stiles grew frustrated when Derek still didn’t respond so he groaned into his mouth, then pulled back a little and whispered, “Kiss me back."

Derek blinked and looked shocked. Stiles grinned back at him and continued, “Like this."

He kissed Derek again, this time letting his tongue slip into Derek’s mouth, trying to provoke a response- any response.

Behind them Isaac covered Derek’s hand on Stiles’ him with his own and tugged it toward the waistband of Stiles’ jeans, slipping under his boxer briefs and against his ass cheek. Stiles moaned and this pulled Derek out of his trance. He kissed Stiles back eagerly, letting his tongue wrap around Stiles’.

Behind Stiles Isaac pulled his hand out from Stiles’ pants, leaving Derek to rub and squeeze on his own. Instead the beta reached around and worked his hand between Derek and Stiles to pop the button open on Stiles’ jeans and slowly tug the zipper down. He did this slowly to give everyone involved a chance to stop or pull back from the situation. Instead Stiles groaned at the feeling of Isaac’s hand against his hard on and he pushed his ass back into Isaac’s grin.

“Jesus Christ," Stiles broke away from the kiss and gasped. Derek faltered and glanced down at Stiles, concerned. Stiles glared back. “If either of you stop what you’re doing I’ll hunt you down and use your hides as pelts."

Derek let out a bark of laughter--honest-to-God laughter--and ducked his head into the curve of Stiles’ neck, breathing in deeply there. Isaac grinned against Stiles’ skin, as well, but his hand never stopped working its way into his pants. Once Isaac had the jeans open enough he shoved Stiles’ underwear down and reached into lightly grasp his cock.

Stiles gasped again and clutched at Derek’s shoulders. Derek moved down Stiles’ body and sucked a nipple into his mouth, clamping down carefully and laving the smooth tip with his tongue. Stiles felt his cock jump in Isaac’s hand and it was all too much.

“Off, off," Stiles muttered as he pushed at the sleeping bag, trying to shove and kick at it without dislodging either werewolf.

Isaac helped by pushing Stiles’ jeans down to his ankles where they got tangled up until, laughing he tugged them off inside out and they disappeared in the tent to where the rest of his clothes ended up.

Stiles was the farthest thing from cold now, even though the wind had picked up and was howling like a substitute wolf around them. Stiles felt like he would explode if someone didn’t touch him, kiss him again.

He reached out to Derek and opened his jeans, uncaring of how quick and sloppy he was being. His hands were clumsy again but this time from _want_ instead of hypothermia. Derek covered Stiles’ hands with his own and slowed him down, helping Stiles open his jeans. No underwear, of course, but that just made Stiles’ job easier. He’d be able to replay this moment of revelation over and over in his head for years after.

Stiles was on his knees, helping pull Derek’s jeans off while Derek pushed and Isaac lay behind Stiles, running his hands over his thighs and up to cup his balls. Isaac carefully pushed Stiles’ knees apart and rearranged himself so his head was between them from behind, directly under his cock that was just starting to leak pre-come. Stiles dropped his body enough for Isaac to reach him comfortably, which put him at just the right level to tentatively reach out to stroke Derek.

The alpha was watching Isaac’s mouth on Stiles with rapt attention, looking like his mouth was going dry at the sight. He almost missed it when Stiles opened his mouth and cautiously licked the tip of Derek’s own cock, capturing the drop at the tip that was just threatening to slip down. Stiles grinned as Derek jumped like he’d been shocked and covered the head with his lips.

“Fuck," Derek grunted, trying not to thrust up into the heat of Stiles’ mouth.

Derek's cock was thick, as expected, It was full and the weight of it felt _right_ on Stiles' tongue. He worked one hand counter to his mouth until Derek was growling below him. He ran his tongue across a thick vein on his shaft over and over until Derek had to hold Stiles back to catch his breath. Stiles didn't realize that he'd gradually been thrusting down into Isaac's mouth as he worked Derek faster and faster. He stilled his hips, sending down a silent apology to Isaac with his eyes, but the other wolf whined and scrabbled at Stiles' legs to get him moving again.

Stiles couldn't believe any of this was happening, least of all to him. It was almost too much for him to handle but he wasn't about to look a gift… wolf? in the mouth.

Stiles carefully flopped over on his side and tugged Isaac over to him. “Don’t suppose anyone thought to bring lube to this camp out?" Stiles groaned as Isaac pushed against his hip with his cock, rubbing into the dip there until it drove Stiles crazy. He reached out to grab Isaac by the back of his head and pulled him down so he could kiss him, hot and dirty. 

Their tongues pressed together wetly and if this all wasn't the hottest goddamn time of Stiles’ life he’d have been embarrassed that their combined spit was leaking out of his mouth. Derek reached over and licked it off his cheek, then continued down his neck, sucking at the pulse point there before he tongued around the curve of Stiles’ collar bone.

“I don’t know how much more I can take," Stiles whispered against Isaac’s mouth. Isaac nodded in agreement but didn’t stop kissing him.

Derek lay back on the sleeping bag and ran his hand over Stiles' ass until he reluctantly pulled away from Isaac and looked over. Derek grabbed him by the hips and tugged him over until he was laying on top of Derek, his back to Derek's chest Derek licked his plan, then slicked up his cock and arranged himself so it rested comfortably between Stiles' cheeks. Stiles let his mouth fall open and his head dropped back to Derek's shoulder while Derek arranged Stiles' legs the way he wanted them.

"Come here, pup," Derek said huskily and Isaac scrambled to lay on top, letting his legs curl around both men so his cock could press up against Stiles'. Derek reached up and offered his hand to Stiles who started sucking on his fingers immediately, curling his tongue around them the way he'd done to Derek's cock.

When they were wet to Derek's satisfaction he reached between Stiles and Isaac to circle both their cocks and stroked them together as Isaac thrusted into his fist. Together they got a rhythm going that gave Derek enough friction as his cock moved against Stiles' ass.

Stiles was in sensory overload. A cock in his ass, another against his own, a strong hand stroking them ,Derek's mouth and teeth on his shoulder, Isaac's breathy whine every time Stiles arched up against him--over and over, faster and faster, sloppy and harsh and then there were bright lights in Stiles' eyes and a sharp pain in his shoulder as Derek came first, triggering Isaac who let out a goddamn-near howl and finally Stiles couldn't take it and he bucked ump coming messily all over his and Isaac's chests.

Stiles barely noticed when Derek tipped them over as one and they were laying on their sides again but still pressed together, Isaac squirmed against Stiles, working their combined mess into their skin until he hummed contentedly against Stiles' neck.

Derek's cock twitched between Stiles' ass cheeks for a few minutes, drawing a minor shudder from Stiles every time. He burrowed back against Derek as much as he could, with Isaac pressing into him from the front and he felt incredibly complete for the first time he could remember in a long time.

"Y'all can Bella Swan me anytime," Stiles muttered, words slurred again but this time not from the cold. Isaac's messy head popped up, confused, but Derek just stroked his hair and urged him back down. 

********************************

The next morning Stiles woke up bundled up in the sleeping bag alone in the tent. He was clean and his jeans and underwear were both back on his body.

Was what happened just a hypothermia-induced hallucination? Stiles glanced around the tent to find _any_ sign of what might have happened and came up with nothing.

He put the rest of his layers on and pulled on his sneakers before unzipping the tent and stumbling out to the harsh morning light.

The day had dawned bright and warm. The snow that fell the night before was already melting and creating a wet, messy underbrush.

The rest of the wolves were lounging just beyond where the tent was set up in a small clearing. Scott, Erica, Boyd and Jackson looked none the worse for wear after their night. Isaac seemed okay, too. He met Stiles' eyes with ease but there was no flicker of familiarity there. Stiles glanced at Derek who, even if he hadn't actually sucked off last night but for in his dreams, _had_ cuddled him to save him from losing fingers and toes and stuff. Derek seemed as gruff and impersonal as ever.

Huh.

"About time you got up, dude," Scott called out. "We were just waiting for you so we can pack up and leave."

"Sorry, you should have woken me up," Stiles replied, feeling a little awkward with everyone starting at him.

"You were the only one of us that actually got any sleep," Erica groused. "Stupid human susceptibility to the cold."

Stiles tried not to blush and lost. "Yeah, stupid hypothermia. Never again," Stiles mock cried, shaking his fist in the air. 

Derek cleared his throat. "Anyway, we going?"

The wolves had the tent down in record time and Derek carried it and the duffel down the mountain just fine. They were at the bottom within an hour, much easier going down than up.

Scott sidled up to Stiles once they got to where they parked their vehicles. "Hey buddy. Allison--"

Stiles groaned but held out his keys automatically. "Just don't park somewhere that if her dad happens to find you guys that he beats up on her, okay? I'll get a ride with--"

"Me," Derek called out and Isaac hopped from the front to the back seat immediately. 

"There ya go, thanks Stiles!" Scott called out as he ran off to the Jeep.

Stiles approached the Camaro somewhat warily but slid into the front seat anyway since he had no other way home. Erica and Boyd had taken off on foot to go do whatever it is they did and Jackson had torn off in his import without a backwards glance.

Stiles stayed ridiculously quiet for most of the ride, until he noticed they weren't going back to his house. "You're not dropping me off?"

"Was wondering if you were going to give us the cold shoulder," Derek replied, which was in no way an answer.

"Cold shoulder? What?"

Isaac's hand landed on Stiles' shoulder, his finger stroking against Stiles' neck. "That's Derek's attempt at a joke. A pun, even."

Stiles looked at his fellow passengers, confused. "I'm… uh… that--that wasn't a dream last night, was it?"

"Pretty damn vivid dream, if it was," Isaac snorted. His hand had worked under Stile's t-shirt and he was stroking down Stiles' chest to pinch his nipple. Stiles gasped and his head fell back against the headrest.

"We just figured that if you were still feeling some effects of the hypothermia it might not be the best idea to send you home alone. You might need to be warmed up again," Derek offered casually, even though his cock was already straining against his fucking tight jeans, and despite his own burgeoning horniness Stiles had to give him an A for effort. 

"Yeah, I think I can warm to that idea," Stiles replied with a grin.

Groans abound, ones that would soon be for a whole different reason.


End file.
